


My soul is always with you.

by Dame_Dulces



Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Concussions, Fix-It, Grief/Mourning, Head Injury, Loss, M/M, Post-Canon, Reincarnation, Survivor Guilt, cope fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2019-02-27
Packaged: 2019-09-23 21:34:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17088158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dame_Dulces/pseuds/Dame_Dulces
Summary: Eighteen years have passed since the death of Aslan Jade Callenreese. 37-year-old Eiji Okumura quietly continues his life as he mourns in silence. Little does he know that the two of them are about to get a second chance.





	1. Chapter 1

“Welcome back.”

A comforting voice that crooned like warm honey greeted him upon his first breath of consciousness.

He was in a space that felt both familiar yet foreign, experiencing the symptoms of déjà vu and nostalgia simultaneously. It was strange; there was nothing around him. No clear picture of scene or setting, although he didn’t believe himself to be in danger. It was as if he was floating on air, or sitting on clouds, yet there was so sense of falling or flying. Just waiting in limbo, an object at rest waiting for another to act upon it.

“Where am I?”

His own voice surprised him. It was deep, and hoarse, as if he hadn’t used it for a very long time. If time existed in such a place.

“Where you are now means little. It’s where you’re going that matters.”

The cryptic answer was both reassuring and unsettling.

“Who are you?”

The voice chuckled.

“Think of me as an unfamiliar friend. Someone who hasn’t been around, but wants to make up for their past transgressions. Someone who has the ability to give you another chance.”

“Another… chance? What do you mean?”

“You’ll understand soon enough. You won’t remember at first, but everything you’ve lost will return to you when the time is right.”

He searched his mind for clues, but nothing came to him. What was he? An entity wandering somewhere between existence and nonexistence? And why was he “here”?

“Why… why me?”

“Why not you? Don’t you feel like there’s something out there waiting for you?”

He paused. Yes, there was this gnawing sense at the center of his being that made him feel restless. Suddenly, the space he was in felt stifling, as if he was an animal in a cage clawing at the iron bars in attempt to return to its home.

Faintly, something (or someone?) called to his heart, from somewhere Out There in a place beyond. A melancholic loneliness that cried out for him and him alone. Imperceptible by the ear, but felt within the soul.

“Yeah… I guess so.”

An unspoken agreement passed between the two beings.

“You won’t be alone. I’m sending you there with someone you know very well. Let your friendship guide you to where you belong.”

Before he could utter a word of thanks, he was consumed by both the light and the dark. It warped around him and packed him down tightly until he fit snugly within the walls of his new home.

He opened his eyes, and let out a shrill cry.

He had returned.

 

~

 

Eiji Okumura awoke in a cold sweat, grasping at the air as if there was something important right within his reach. But all he could feel was emptiness.

He stretched his arm to the left and searched for the glass of water he always kept by his bed, knocking some pens and paper to the floor in the process. He found it. Without bothering to sit up, he brought it to his lips and gulped the cool liquid down as if it were the source of life itself. When the glass was empty, he set it back down. He inhaled deeply, slowly returning to a stable state of mind and body.

That dream again. Why was he having it now, of all times?

Eighteen years had passed. There hadn’t been a day he didn’t think of his old friend, the boy with golden hair and eyes the color of precious jade. He had buried his grief long ago, or so he thought, as it often found ways to crawl out of the grave and haunt him during the most wicked hours of the night. Tonight had been no exception.

Normally Ash would pay him a visit, and they’d relive their old memories in the slums of New York with the old gang members surrounding them. Or sometimes they’d be looking over the edge of Cape Cod, shooting coca cola bottles as a way to pass the time in the sleep coastal town. Once, a few years ago, he’d dreamt of that long truck ride to Los Angeles where Ash had pulled a gun on a local man who ended up directing them to the most beautiful sight of the skyline. That was the most vivid one of all.

However, this dream differed from the others. In the end, Aslan Jade Callenreese had given him a special message, and he’d be damned if he forgot it.

“I’ll see you soon, Eiji.”

Eiji clutched the thin sheets of the bed until his knuckles turned bone white.

“What do you mean by that, Ash…?”

He stayed there for a moment or two, until his gaze fell upon the clock. 7:45 AM. Too early to be completely functional, too late to try and get more shut eye. Not that he wanted to go back into the dream world quite yet, anyway.

He slowly got up and made his way to the bathroom.

Then, as he did every morning, he examined his face for abnormalities. A lot had changed in the last two decades, such as the length of his hair, the unshaved stubble on his chin and upper lip, and the amount of wrinkles that made shallow grooves in the skin near his eyes and mouth. But not everything. His eyes were still the shade of deep brown that Ash told him he loved, even though he used to hate dark things. His hair had stayed kept its jet black hue. His smile remained soft and shy.

That is, when he managed to smile.

He was just about to wash his face when he heard his phone going off in the bedroom where he’d left it. He made his way there and answered it immediately when he saw the caller ID.

“Morning, Sing.”

“Damn, why are you up so early Eiji? Ever heard of sleeping in on the weekends?”

Eiji let out a dejected sigh.

“Did you call me just to yell at me, or is there something important you need to discuss?”

“Oh, yeah. Just lettin’ you know that your intern is coming by the studio today. I told him to wait until Monday, but he seemed really eager to meet you. I guess you’re his idol or something.”

Eiji groaned as his ran a hand over the short, prickly hair on his jaw.

“Does it really have to be today?”

“It doesn’t. But you can tell him in person when he shows up. I didn’t have the heart. I think you’ll understand why when you meet him.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem. Wanna get take out for dinner?”

“God, please no. I can’t stomach another night of rubbery chicken.”

“What if I told you it’s from Chang Dai?”

Eiji flinched as his grip on the phone tightened.

“Goodbye, Sing.”

“Wait, Eiji-!”

He smashed the call end button and threw the phone across the room until it hit the wall with a hard thud.

 _Damn it, Sing_ … he thought between gritted teeth. _Now is not the time.._.

Painful memories stained his mind like blood on white clothing. Images of old friends, their faces fading in and out with expressions of sorrow, anguish, joy, fear. It was all too much for him to bear. At 37 years old, he was ready for the pain to end.

He felt hot tears drip down his face and soak the bedsheets beneath him.

 

~

 

Two young men wandered down the streets of upper west side Manhattan in the early morning, staring at a mess of scribbled numbers and letters written in chicken scratch on a torn out piece of notebook paper.

They were quite a sight. One of them, a tall blonde boy with broad shoulders and long limbs to match his towering height, and the other a muscular boy with light brown skin and his bright neon hair buzzed on the one side in a punk rock style. If they were anywhere but New York City, they may have gotten suspicious stares or curious glances from passersby. But being the melting pot that it was, they were barely noticed and took on the roles of background characters in the lives of the nameless city residents.

“Uh, Altan, are you sure we’re in the right neighborhood?”

“For the millionth time, yes, this is the address I was given by Mr. Sing.”

“I can barely read this shit. Don’t you know how to write?”

“Shut up! It’s perfectly clear!”

They bickered for a moment until they pulled out their phones to check the GPS and realized they were at the cross streets they had been looking for.

“Oh, damn! I guess it’s just down this street.”

The blonde-haired boy sighed in annoyance.

“You’re the local, Sheng. You’re supposed to know where everything is.”

“My hood’s Chinatown. Why the fuck would I come all the way out here? There ain’t shit but expensive restaurants and pigeon crap.”

It was true. All of Sheng’s family and friends were in Chinatown, where most of the Chinese residents of New York called home. Yet, Altan found it odd that he rarely ever ventured outside of his own neighborhood. Just being in the city for a few days was making him anxious to explore all the hidden gems the concrete jungle had to offer. City dwellers were such strange creatures.

In fact, certain parts of New York had given him a strange feeling when he and Sheng had passed through. For instance, the public library on 5th avenue near Central Park. And the Museum of Natural History a couple blocks down from where they were currently. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but something about those two landmarks called out to him. And he couldn’t figure out why.

It really didn’t make sense. He was a country boy from a rural town in the Midwest and had no ties to the big apple whatsoever. But in a way, it felt as if he were coming home after a long journey. It was comforting, yet unsettling. He didn’t dare voice his feelings to Sheng for fear of being mocked.

Finally, they reached their destination. “Dawn Studios”. The work place of the world-famous photographer that was Eiji Okumura. Altan had been the lucky student chosen out of thousands to work beside him as his apprentice. He wasn’t sure why he had been blessed with such good fortune; he considered his work quite amateur compared to others who had applied. To be fair, it was damn near close to a miracle. As if the hands of fate themselves had tied the string of opportunity around his finger and pulled him towards his future.

He pondered the path that had brought him here, but his period of deep thought was quickly interrupted by Sheng’s impatience.

“Uh, earth to Altan? Are you just gonna stand there gaping?”

Altan snapped back to reality. He was right; this was it. His best chance at living the life he’d always dreamed of.

He swallowed his apprehension and knocked on the door.


	2. Chapter 2

Eiji was seeing ghosts. There was no other explanation for the phenomenon in front of him.

That, or the several nights of restless sleep had finally gotten to him and the grief he had tried so hard to suppress had now manifested into physical form. Not only was the likeness of Ash Lynx traipsing through his studio, but the embodiment of Shorter Wong as well. He’d nearly fainted when he’d opened the door and saw the two young men standing before him expectantly, with the same warm smiles and familiar auras he hadn’t felt in almost twenty years. However, Eiji held himself together, repeating the same mantra in his head over and over again until it hurt as much as the first time he had heard it –

_Ash Lynx is dead. Shorter Wong is dead._

Wherever these two had come from, it was certainly not the grave. They were as much alive as Ash and Shorter were deceased. He accepted that. He had to accept it. He had to keep looking forward, eyes on the future ahead, so as not to fall victim to the demons of his past. He had to lest he fall to despair.

He took a deep breath, and let it out.

“You must be Altan. Welcome to New York City.”

“Mr. Okumura,” the blonde responded in a sultry baritone, “It’s an honor to meet you.”

 _He wasn’t what I expected_ … thought a perplexed Eiji. When Sing had told him his intern was from a small town in a Midwestern state he’d never heard of, he’d expected him to be a bit more… average. Altan Nowak was anything but, with looks that could kill and a face that would put angels to shame. Besides his appearance, the young man was radiating animalistic energy that threatened to break loose at any second.

 _Just like Ash_.

Eiji nodded, then glanced at the tanned boy beside him with chartreuse colored hair. “And who is your friend?”

“Sheng Long. A good friend.” He put his arm around him in a brotherly manner. “I hope it’s alright that he came. You see, it’s my first time in New York, and he’s a local.”

Sheng shot him a big, goofy grin, which Eiji found difficult to reject.

“Not at all. Nice to meet you as well, Sheng.”

“Likewise, Mr. Okumura!”

Sheng’s lively response matched the unnatural color of his hair. A pair of dark rimmed sunglasses hung from the collar of his orange shirt, reflecting back Eiji’s mystified expression. Everything about him seemed bright and animated. Although Eiji was bone tired, it was refreshing for him to be around such energetic young people again.

“Well, come in. Usually I don’t work on Saturdays, but it won’t do any harm to get yourself acquainted.”

And with that, the three of them stepped inside Eiji’s world of captured memories.

The studio was open and airy, with plenty of space to walk in between photography installments. Different brands of cameras were set up throughout, as well as artistic backdrops and half-framed snapshots. The subjects varied in age and ethnicity: there was a young Japanese girl eating onigiri, an older businessman in a designer suit, a yellow haired teenager with jade green eyes, and a few self portraits of Eiji himself over the years. It was like walking through an unfinished private exhibition.

Eiji noticed Altan gravitate towards the back corner, while Sheng wandered aimlessly around the space and eventually disappeared into the next room.

“Please be mindful of the equipment. And do take care not to touch the unframed pieces. Those are works in progress.”

As if on cue, a loud crash echoed from the other room. A panicked voice cried out – “Oh, SHIT!!” – followed by the sound of Sheng hastily scrambling to clean up whatever mess he had made. Eiji shook his head and sighed, but there was nothing to be done about something that was already broken. He made a mental note to attend to it later.

He turned his attention to Altan, who was observing the old images of Ash that were almost hidden from view behind a stack of unreleased portfolios.

“These pictures… were they intended to be part of your original Dawn installment?”

Eiji froze. No one else had laid eyes on those besides him, he had made damn certain of that. They’d been tucked away for god knows how long, only seeing the light of day when Eiji returned to visit them in the privacy of his solitude, whenever the pain had become too much to bear. His instinct was to rush over and re-bury them all, but hearing the genuine curiosity in Altan’s voice somehow stilled his anxious heart. He had to keep it together. Eyes toward the future.

He took another deep breath, and let it out slowly.

“Well, not exactly. At least not for Dawn. To be honest, I never intended to release any of them. It wasn’t until I was encouraged by my loved ones and overcame some personal issues that I was finally able to share the contents of New York Sense with the public.”

“I see. It’s a shame, they’re absolutely breathtaking.”

Altan went silent momentarily, and Eiji could practically taste the intensity emitting from his body. It didn’t feel threatening or dangerous; in fact, it reminded him of the passion that he often felt when he had been in the company of Ash.

Ash again… why was he still on his mind?

“New York Sense was my favorite of your works,” Altan spoke up after a while. “There’s something about the way that you capture your subjects that makes the viewer feel this strong sense of love and intimacy. Even though we as spectators don’t know the subjects personally, it’s as if we share a special, unspoken bond with them that can’t be explained with words.”

His comments made Eiji fell dizzy. Even after all this time, he still wasn’t used to hearing such words of praise and affirmation. He hadn’t prepared for Altan to see his most cherished possessions, and the entire situation was becoming quite overwhelming for him. He seized a nearby chair and sat down, holding his head in one head and closing his eyes.

“Tha, thank, thank you…”

Altan kneeled, taking in every detail of the seldom seen photos.

“There are so many pictures of him here. May I ask, who is this man to you?”

Pain jolted Eiji’s heart, a sensation he had grown accustomed to but nonetheless still suffered from. He looked up at his youthful intern and gave him a sad smile.

“That man… is everything to me. It’s difficult for me to talk about, even now. If I had to put our connection into words… he is nothing short of my soul mate.”

His last words lingered in the air, hanging between the two of them like a thin red string.

 

~

 

Sing Soo-Ling stood before the wall-high windows of his multi-million dollar condo, gazing out at the vast skyline of his urban kingdom as the vermilion sun set behind violet clouds. He twirled a glass of aged wine in one hand, clockwise, then counterclockwise, and took a small sip. Lively acidity, long clean finish. Just as he had expected from a vintage bottle.

He truly had it all. A beautiful wife, a competent son, prime real estate in one of the most sought after properties in the city, and several sources of passive income that allowed him to retire early. Out of everyone else involved with the Banana Fish conspiracy, he was the one who had found his happy ending.

Out of everyone else, he was the lone survivor.

The gangs had mostly disbanded after the untimely deaths of Shorter Wong and Ash Lynx. Once Sing had left to pursue his degrees, there was no one to lead the remaining men of Chinatown. The years turned to decades, cruelly forced forward by the hands of Father Time, and he’d discovered that most of his guys had either been killed in the resulting chaos or sent to prison. Even Yut-Lung had not been spared from the claws of the reaper, dragged to hell after a successful assassination attempt back when Sing was still a newlywed.

The guilt of his survival pulled him deeper and deeper into the darkness of contempt as he aged. Some years were better than others, like the year his son was born with the golden face of his old comrade and a smile that reminded him of happier times. He was able to pull himself out of that hole, if only for a short while.

However, some years had been unbearable. Those were the years where his guilt had grasped its ghostly hands around his ankles, demanding to be felt, demanding justice for his undeserved happiness. He had come to accept this, for he knew his namesake would never allow him to forget about the role he played in the tragedy.

Like the wine, his loss had fermented in scorching acid until it left nothing but a bitter taste.

But the gods had given him a shot at redemption in the form of Altan Nowak. Sing had taken one look at his half-assed application and knew Ash had come back to them. Apart from a few minor details, such as the light brown freckles that dusted his cheeks and the faded juniper grey that colored his eyes, he was the spitting image of the former wild cat. Once he'd seen him, he threw out the others and sent the acceptance letter at once.

This was his chance. He would repay Eiji for his unconditional kindness and return to him what he had tragically lost all those years ago.

Sing had taken one last sip and was about to call it a day when he felt his phone buzz in the pocket of his suit. Without looking to see who was calling, he pressed accept and put it to his ear.

“Yo.”

“Sing. Why did you choose him, of all people?”

“Ah, Eiji. I take it you’ve met Altan.”

“I can’t work with him. Please, find me another intern.”

“That bad?”

“He's too much like him.”

Sing paused before answering.

“Give him a week. Maybe this will be good for you. He could help you move on.”

“Sing, I can’t…”

Sing heard his friend’s voice crumble as it grew quieter. It broke his heart, but he knew it would break more watching Eiji continue on like this. 

“Eiji. I know this is hard. But please, trust me when I say this will be good for you. I wouldn’t have chosen him if I didn’t think he was a good match.”

Soft sniffles could be heard from the other side. Sing waited patiently for his answer, letting Eiji take his time.

“Alright… but if it becomes too much, I want him to leave.”

“Of course.”

A tender quietness passed between them that lasted for several seconds, until Eiji spoke up once more.

“I’ll be going now.”

“Wait, did you have dinner yet? Akira ended up cooking tonight. I can bring you some of the leftovers.”

“I’m okay. Thank you, Sing.”

There was a click, and the line went silent.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qLjkvI0uGhU

The days passed by uneventfully.

Altan proved himself to be a more than capable photographer as time went on, knowing more about the innerworkings of the camera then Eiji himself had been familiar with at his age. He mastered all the new techniques in a flash, putting the artist at a loss by the time the second week had rolled around. They spent the hours by each other’s side, developing film from the retro cameras, picking out the best shots from each shoot, editing color and contrast in an endless search for the perfect edit.

It was easier for Eiji to wake up in the morning now that he knew someone was waiting for him. Despite the grief and guilt-ridden nightmares that plagued him during those near sleepless nights, knowing that Altan would greet him in the morning with that angelic smile of his was enough to drag himself out of bed and back into the real world.

He swore that smile had healing powers. He felt twenty years younger whenever he was blessed with the sight.

“Mornin’, boss!” He’d say with a cheerful wave. Eiji would always return his greeting with an awkward grin, as it took time to relearn how to smile.

“Good morning, Altan,” he’d reply, sipping on his overly sweetened coffee as he tried to hide the color in his face.

Ever so slowly, Eiji felt warmth creeping back into his heart, igniting a flame he thought had died long ago. He didn’t dare put it out.

At times, he’d catch himself staring at his young apprentice without thinking, his eyes lingering on the way his cornflower hair swirled around his fingers whenever Altan tousled it with his large hands. He pondered the texture; perhaps it was akin to the silk suits he used to wear to the gallery openings, or soft like the cotton of bedsheets. He observed the way his nose would twitch when his steel-rimmed glasses slipped down too far, the dusty freckles on his face squishing together to form starry constellations on his cheeks. His peach lips pressed together when deep in thought, his brows furrowed while his brain scrambled to find a solution to a problem. Just like someone he used to know.

And, on more than one occasion, he had caught the young intern staring back.

“Altan,” Eiji spoke up one day after a long period of silence. It was Friday afternoon, and all the tasks he had on his to-do list for the day had been completed. Along with most of next week’s.

“Yeah?” the blonde peered up from behind his laptop.

“That’s enough for now. Let’s call it an early weekend.”

Altan glanced back at his screen, rubbing the inner corner of one dry eye.

“Are you sure? There’s still a lot here…”

“It’s fine. To be honest, we’ve been so productive lately that I’m worried we won’t have much to do after this project.”

That was enough for him. Altan slammed his computer shut and stretched up his lanky arms, letting out a groan of relief.

“Sweet! Does this mean I have the afternoon off?”

Eiji nodded, unable to hide his smirk.

“Of course. If you’d like, why don’t we go out for lunch? My treat.”

“If you insist, sure!” (Eiji swore he heard his stomach growling.)

“You can invite Sheng, as well. Tell him I have no hard feelings about him breaking my frame.”

Altan pulled out his phone, swiping until he came across the right contact.

“Where should I have him meet us?”

Eiji paused, considering his options carefully before answering.

“Greenwich Village. The Washington square station.”

A blur of fingers rapidly typed the message on the tiny screen. Sent, surrounded in a blue bubble and read almost instantly.

They grabbed their coats and made their way out.

 

\--

 

Greenwich Village. He didn’t know what had possessed him to go there.

How many years had it been? Five? Eight? This neighborhood was another location he had gone out of his way to avoid. He’d boxed himself into Manhattan, a willing prisoner in a jail he had created on his own accord. Yet here he was, ready to unlock those chains and walk freely once more.

_… But why?_

It really was inconvenient. It would most likely take an hour to get there and even longer to get back once rush hour hit. Not to mention the shady characters that often rode this particular route.

He figured dwelling on the reason wouldn’t solve much at this point.

The subway was unusually empty for the time of day. Apart from a few people hanging by the doors, there were more spaces available than usual. Eiji held his head in one hand as he sat on a fuzzy seat with a tacky 1970s design, leaning against the murky window dirtied by pollution and grime. Altan stood in front of him, one hand clutching the steel rail, another in his pocket. He stared out the window pensively at the dreary tunnels.

_What was on his mind…?_

A man Eiji assumed to be homeless was dozing off next to him. He could smell the alcohol and day-old body odor. Not wanting to be rude, he moved his face away in attempt to protect his nostrils. He distracted himself from the unpleasant scent by making small talk with Altan.

“Have you been to Greenwich Village yet?”

Altan turned around to face him, shaking his head.

“Not yet. I’ve heard about it, though. Isn’t it sort of like the cultural center of the city?”

“Yeah, well… it was. But sadly, a lot of the artists have been pushed out in recent years. It’s not what it used to be.”

“That explains it. I was wondering why you chose Manhattan for your studio. Greenwich Village seems more fitting.”

Eiji looked down at his free hand as it rested in his lap.

“Well… there’s a reason for that…”

“Which is?”

Before he could answer, a robotic voice rang throughout the train.

“Next stop: Washington Square Station.”

Eiji readied himself to leave, thankful for the change in subject.

“Oh, this is our stop.”

The train slowed to a halt. Altan waited anxiously for the doors to open. Eiji went to stand up, but his wallet slipped from his pocket and onto the dingy floor. He leaned over to pick it up and just about fell over from the shift of gravity.

As soon as it was in his hands, he felt himself pulled violently pulled backwards and slammed against the metal back of the subway seat. His head hit the cold metal with a hard _bang_. Pain throbbed through him, blood pumping and swishing in his brain in an unsteady rhythmic pattern. The aroma of unwashed hair and cigarettes filled his nose, almost gagging him. A raspy voice barked an order in his ear, the words slurring almost incoherently.

“Gimmeh yer wallet.”

That’s when he felt the knife at his throat.

Sharp, cold, pressed against the skin with enough pressure to sting.

Time stopped. His blood ran cold. He didn’t dare move.

Was this it? The moment he would return to Ash?

He recalled how desperate he had been to succumb to death in those first few painful years. Praying for the grim reaper to come for him as he contemplated the long decades he would have to spend alone, without his beloved by his side. How many times had he wished for a moment like this to come?

But… something was different now. No, he couldn’t go out this way. Not yet. Not until…

“ ** _Get your goddamn hands off him!_** ”

_That voice…_

“Aaaaaah, AAAAAAAH!!”

He heard a loud _THUMP,_ the squish of flesh, and a succession of frightened shrieks as he was suddenly pushed backward, hitting his head once more on something hard and cold. A splash of red filled his vision.

The next few seconds were imperceptible. In the struggle, Eiji had his glasses knocked off and sent flying in an unknown direction. The world was blurry, a mix of unrecognizable shapes and colors. He tried to make out what he could as his consciousness slowly left him.

The hands that had held him back were gone; he noticed something large laying on the ground. Perhaps a body. He squinted; it was the homeless man from before. A switchblade dripping with blood lay within his reach.

And above him stood Altan, radiating fury and savage energy. His normally faded juniper eyes glowering deep jade, his hands splattered lightly with crimson. His chest rose and fell in heavy breaths. He was intense and focused, like a predator that had just slaughtered its prey. His blonde hair flew wildly about his face.

Eiji’s eyelids felt heavy. He let them close softly, the sounds around him growing more distant as each second passed.

“Mr. Okumura!! Boss, HEY!! STAY WITH ME!!”

Before he succumbed to the darkness, one last image burned in his mind.

_He’s here… he saved me again… if only I could just… reach out…_

“Ash…?”

Then finally, everything faded to black.

 

~

 

“Eiji. Wake up.”

Eiji opened his eyes. He was greeted by a clear sapphire sky, dotted with cotton-clouds and a few lost birds who wandered the great yonder aimlessly.

His skin itched; it felt like he was laying on the earth. Maybe grass. He sat up, looking around to see who had called for him. His hands clutched the ground beneath him as he steadied himself.

Within moments, his eyes fell upon a familiar face.

There he was, sitting cross legged on the ground a few inches away from him with his back against a tree. He was wearing a white shirt and denim jeans, along with some worn out red converse stained with mud and dirt. His typical attire. He smiled peacefully back at Eiji.

“Ash! Is that, is that really you!?”

He chuckled, crossing his arms in front of his broad chest.

“Of course it’s me, dummy. Who else would come all the way here just to see you?”

The black-haired boy rushed forward, wrapping his arms around his old friend. Hugging him tightly, as if he'd never let go.

“Ash! I’ve missed you…”

Tears leaked down his round cheeks and soaked through Ash’s shirt. The blonde returned the gesture, embracing the sobbing boy in a warm embrace and resting his chin on the top of his head. He caressed his hair with the gentle touch of a lover, humming quietly. The sound vibrating through his chest.

“Alright, alright… enough blubbering, I’m here already. Come on.”

Eiji pulled away after what seemed like hours. His eyes a little red, his nose still slightly running. He wiped his face with the back of one hand, looking around once he had calmed himself.

He saw that they were in a nearly empty meadow filled with tall grasses. There was wheat growing as far as the eyes could see, stretching beyond the ocean blue horizon in a field of amber gold. Trees with thick, dark trunks dotted the landscape. The one they were under covered them generously with its foliage.

“Where are we?”

“Beats the hell out of me. You’re the one who brought us here.”

“I did?”

Ash sighed in annoyance.

“You still don’t realize it, huh.”

Eiji puffed out his cheeks in frustration.

“What’s there to realize? You’re being really vague!”

The former lynx put his hands behind his head, leaning back into the rough skin of the tree trunk.

“Anyway, where we are isn’t really important. It’s where we’re going that matters.”

Eiji was dumbfounded. He pouted as he began to lose his patience with the blonde.

“You finally come back to me after however long and all you can do is speak in riddles…”

Ash groaned obnoxiously as he crawled towards his whining friend. He put his hands on Eiji’s shoulders, shaking them slightly.

“Eiji! Stop being a baby and listen!”

He muttered something under his breath, but gave him the benefit of the doubt.

“Okay. I’m listening.”

“Do you remember what you wrote me in your letter?”

Eiji felt his heart drop. Of course he did. He remembered every word. The image of Ash’s blood splashed like watercolors across the page returned, from a place in his mind he thought he’d locked away for good.

“Yes…”

“You said ‘my soul is always with you’."

Eiji nodded, on the verge of tears once more.

“Eiji, the same is true for mine.”

“What… what do you mean?”

“You think we’ve been apart all these years, but we haven’t. I’ve always been with you, Eiji! And I always will!”

The ground began to move beneath their feet. Eiji clutched onto Ash's shoulder, but his grip was weak and the tremors increased every second.

“Looks like we’re out of time," stated Ash with a frown.

It rumbled as it split open, tearing the two from each other’s arms and pulling them backwards towards the opposite skylines.

Eiji reached out his hand, stretching it as far as he could towards the golden haired boy, praying this time it would finally take hold of what he had been searching for. But it seemed the more he tried, the farther away Ash was from him.

“Ash! Don’t leave me again! I can’t bear to be without you!”

Ash smiled softly, a hint of melancholy visible within his emerald green irises.

“See you on the other side.”

Eiji watched his tears float towards the sky as he fell into the darkness.


	4. Chapter 4

Eiji returned to the waking world with cautious eyes, opening slowly at first as if they didn’t trust their own perception. His vision was fuzzy, like the old school televisions that went blank after the day’s programming had ended. He tried to focus on the blurry shapes and monochrome colors, hoping he could make more sense of them as his consciousness returned.

The distant blare of sirens and rapid voices reverberated in his ears. It sounded like he was at a party listening to music from another room.

Someone was holding him up; his body was completely limp. He tried to move but felt too weak.

His mouth parted gently, calling out as he continued to walk the thin tightrope between both worlds.

“Ash… Ash…”

His head was throbbing with pain. The indistinct noises were starting to affect him. He clutched his head, the combination of eye-soreness and his obvious head injury bringing him to an intense state of discomfort.

He caught a flash of yellow hair. A baritone voice called his name. His sight became clearer as he focused on the face of the one who held him.

“Ash…?”

“Mr. Okumura!”

Of course, it wasn’t Ash. But Eiji wasn’t disappointed. Altan was by his side, hovering over him like a concerned parent as some men and women dressed in white (paramedics, he presumed) assessed his current state. One of the men stood over him, shoving a gloved finger in his face and instructing Eiji to follow its movement with his eyes.

“Sir, can you tell me your name?”

“Okumura…. Eiji Okumura.”

“What day is it today?”

“Friday… the 6th…”

“How old are you?”

“I’m 37…”

Both Altan and the medic seemed relieved. The man addressed Altan, giving Eiji a moment to re-orientate himself.

“His memory seems fine. He appears to be cognizant. He’s definitely got a concussion, but it seems to be mild.”

Eiji groaned while he listened. His head continued to pound as if someone was hitting a drumstick against it. He brought a limp hand to his forehead in a meek attempt to console himself. The medic walked away momentarily, giving Eiji a chance to speak with Altan alone.

“How long was I out…?”

“Not too long. Less than a few minutes,” Altan answered.

“What happened?”

“Some shithole tried to rob you.”

That’s right. The homeless man. The memory of that horrendous odor graced him once more.

“Did he get away?”

Altan made a strange face, but softly shook his head. Would that be because…?

The missing pieces were starting to come back to Eiji’s memory.

 “You stopped him, didn’t you?”

The blonde cringed. At first unwilling to respond, he finally confessed.

“I don’t know what happened… my body moved on its own. Like some sort of wild animal took over me.”

Eiji put his hand on Altan’s and gazed into his eyes. God, they reminded him so much of Ash’s. They were just as intense, with the same gentle hint of melancholy.

“Altan, I owe you my life. If you hadn’t been there, I don’t know what would have happened. Surely something worse than a concussion.”

Altan seemed to relax a bit after hearing those words.

He helped Eiji to his feet, keeping one hand around his waist and another on his shoulder in case he lost his balance. Eiji did his best to hide the redness creeping up his neck.

The medic soon returned with a list of instructions.

“Keep an eye out for any other symptoms that arise. You’ll probably have a headache for a while, but if it gets worse you should seek medical attention. Avoid any strenuous physical activity. Also, I suggest you have someone stay with you overnight to monitor your condition.”

Eiji instinctively glanced at Altan, who smirked as if in agreement.

“I suppose that’ll have to be me.”

“Uh, are you sure? I could have Sing-“

“It’s no trouble, Boss. Plus, I gotta make sure you’re alright, ya know? I am your biggest fan.”

He winked, and that did him in. Eiji felt girlish as his face grew hot from the last comment. He looked away, perhaps a bit too fast, because the movement triggered more throbbing. He would have stumbled over if not for Altan's hold on him.

“Hey, take it easy!”

The scene of the crime seemed to taper down as people left and went about their daily lives. The two of them spoke with a couple of the policemen, piecing together their account of the incident before they were allowed to go home.

 

~~

 

“So much for an early weekend. Sorry we couldn’t do lunch.”

“Don’t worry about that. You don’t need to apologize for something that’s not your fault.”

The sun was making its leave from the sky, a warm marmalade sphere contrasting against a violet-colored background. The two of them had reached the entrance of Eiji’s apartment just as the first street lamps had awakened for their nightly duties.

“Did you let Sheng know what happened?”

“Yeah. He understands. He said he’d come by tomorrow to check in with you.”

Eiji fumbled in his pockets for his keys, then clumsily unlocked the door. Still a little dizzy, he made sure not too move too fast lest he prompt another headache, or worse, fall down completely.

Once inside, Eiji flipped on the light and illuminated the near-spotless living room. Simple furniture was arranged in an orderly fashion to take full advantage of the space in a minimalist style. A wooden table with short legs and cushions on all four sides decorated one side of the room, with a regular tan couch and coffee table on the other. Altan was a bit surprised to come across the cleanest bachelor pad he had ever laid eyes on.

“Make yourself at home, but please take off your shoes before you come in.”

The blonde looked down at his dirt-stained converse and felt a little sheepish. How sloppy he must look compared to the tidiness of Eiji’s place! He began to undo his laces one by one, his cheeks aflame with embarrassment.

Eiji plopped himself on the couch and spread each of his limbs in a different direction, inhaling deeply as if it was the first time he had relaxed all day. He closed his eyes, granting himself some respite from all the action.

“Mr. Okumura, are you feeling okay?”

“Please, enough of the formality… you can call me Eiji.”

Altan glanced up at his superior with a half smile, amused by the sudden request.

“Sure… Eiji.”

Hearing his name spoken in that familiar deep baritone stirred something carnal within the photographer. He swallowed as he tried to repress those thoughts before they could take form.

Once Altan finished taking off his shoes, he sulked over to the free side of the leather couch. He crossed one leg and stretched the other out beneath the coffee table. He intertwined his fingers together, staring at them as they lay in his lap.

“Eiji. Can I ask you something?”

“What is it?”

“Are you afraid of me?”

Eiji opened his eyes to look at the younger man. He sat up with a very serious expression.

“Altan. I’m 37 years old. I’ve seen far worse things in my life than that. Nothing can scare me anymore.”

The blonde smiled in relief, as if he had been forgiven for a past transgression he’d made lifetimes ago.

“Good.”

Eiji put his hands behind his head. A slight twinkle appeared in his eyes.

“I’d like to know something, though. Where did you learn to fight like that?”

Altan’s gaze returned to his hands. He chewed on the inside of his cheek, flinching when he bit too hard.

“I was… kind of a bad kid. I got involved with some shady people back home.”

Huh. Now Eiji was intrigued.

“What kind of bad people?”

“Mainly drug dealers. My hometown was a major hub for weed and heroin.”

“What?!”

“I never killed anyone though! The transactions were mostly peaceful. I didn’t get too deep into it. I only fought people when they attacked me.”

“But… why drugs?”

Altan shrugged, spacing out as he leaned back.

“I was bored, I guess. The Midwest isn’t like New York. There’s not much to do there besides watch corn grow and shoot meth.”

Eiji’s fractured brain scrambled trying to picture life in the Midwest. He’d only been to New York and Los Angeles, despite being a naturalized citizen for so many years. There just hadn’t been much of a reason to go anywhere else. He chuckled to himself imagining someone like Altan spending his free time surrounded by farm animals and crops.

“I suppose… but wasn’t there something else you could have done?”

“Not really. I wasn’t in school anymore. I’d already graduated and gotten my Bachelor’s. But I was still a minor. I couldn’t go anywhere or get a job until I turned 18. I felt stuck.”

“Hold on… you got your Bachelor’s degree before you were 18!?”

Altan sighed.

“Yeah. I was what you’d called ‘gifted’. It sounds fancy on paper, but it was more trouble than it was worth. Getting perfect scores on everything gave me kind of a complex. I was a shitty kid at times. I really put my parents through a lot.”

He fell silent for a moment, his unspoken regrets looming in the air. Eiji decided not to press him for it. Not yet, anyway.

“That’s the only thing I wish I could change…” he continued. “They’re actually good people, you know. I think that’s why I wanted to leave so bad. Whether it was New York or somewhere else. I wanted them to have peace of mind. They couldn’t get that with me there.”

Another wave of silence washed over the two men, the only sound coming from the ceiling fan as it lazily circled the ceiling.

Then, out of nowhere, Altan leaned over Eiji with a curious grin plastered across his face. Having the young man so close in proximity elicited nervous heart palpitations in Eiji’s chest.

“Uhm…?”

“Now it’s your turn,” the blonde demanded. “Tell me more about this Ash guy. I heard you calling his name when you woke up. You must miss him a lot.”

The same sinking feeling that had been burying the 37-year-old came back to him, gnawing viciously in the pit of his stomach. His grief threatened to break through the ground again, refusing to stay dormant after being called by name. Eiji debated between evading the question or facing it head on, and eventually the latter won. He was tired, and he knew Ash didn't deserve to be kept prisoner in his heart for this long.

Perhaps now was the time to let it go.

“Alright… I’ll tell you,” Eiji began quietly. “I’ll tell you all about Aslan Jade Callenreese. But you should know, most people knew him as Ash...”

And with that, he recanted everything he could remember. His memory was crystal clear with every detail and side story, as if it had happened yesterday. It was a tale memorized by heart and something not even a concussion could take away from him. Before long, Eiji was 19 again, running through the streets of New York City with the wild lynx ahead of him. The sound of gunshots, the smell of fresh blood, the threat of danger around every corner. Eiji yearned to go back to those times, despite the fact that his life had constantly been threatened. He had never felt safer than when he had been in Ash's company.

Altan listened, to every last detail, memorizing the story bit by bit so he could share Eiji’s pain and lighten his burden, even if only a little.

He pretended not to notice the tears leaking from the corners of Eiji's eyes.

 

~~

 

Altan tried to make himself comfortable on the tatami mat next to Eiji’s bed.

“Japanese people are so weird… who would want to sleep on the cold, hard floor…” he grumbled to himself as he fluffed his lumpy pillow.

“What was that?”

“...Nothing…”

Eiji pulled the string of the lamp on the dresser next to his bed, and instantly the room was covered in a blanket of darkness. He snuggled into his covers, back towards the wall as he faced the perturbed blonde on the floor beside him.

“Remember, I gotta wake you up in a few hours to check your cognition or whatever.”

“Yup.”

“You better not be all cranky cuz I’m gonna be tired too!”

“Of course not.”

“Hmph…”

“Goodnight, Altan.”

“Night, Eiji.”

And with that, the two lulled themselves into a comfortable sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

 

In the dead of night, Altan was stirred from his sleep by the sound of faint whimpering.

He sat up and stretched his limbs as far into the air as he could, still half asleep, in an effort to gather his bearings. He rubbed his tired eyes and looked around.

The moonlight cast deep shades of sapphire and pewter grey across the bedroom, which fell gently upon Eiji’s face as he dozed. Altan soon discovered that he was the source of the pitiful noises that had woken him. His senior was buried under a thick layer of blankets that seemed to weigh heavily on his chest, mumbling incomprehensible things that Altan couldn’t even attempt to understand. From the looks of it, his mind was still locked in a state of deep sleep.

“Eiji, you okay?” he spoke in a low, hoarse voice.

Eiji didn’t answer nor acknowledge the question. His indistinct muttering continued.

Altan groaned as he pushed himself off the floor and moved to the foot of the bed. He figured now was probably the best time to wake him and check for any additional concussion symptoms. Also, being a little closer to the man meant that he was able to make out his words a little more clearly.

“Ash…! No…”

 _He must be having a bad dream_ …

Uncertain of what to do in the situation, and not wanting to disturb Eiji during his night terror and possibly cause more harm, Altan simply waited for him to wake up on his own. He watched as the older man twitched and moaned, feeling powerless to do anything.

_Should I touch him? I don’t want to freak him out. Maybe I should just let him be…_

Suddenly, Eiji cried and jolted forward, grasping the air with both arms. His eyes were wide open, filled with despair and confusion and something else Altan couldn’t quite put to words. Streaks of dried tears lined his cheeks as new ones leaked from his eyes, following the same path down his chin and dripping onto the bed covers. His breathing was hitched. His shoulders heaved back and forth. He looked a ghastly sight; he had never seen a person so disturbed from a dream.

Slightly panicking, he put on his bravest face. Eiji needed him, and he’d be damned if he failed him.

“Eiji… It’s just a bad dream. It’s alright.”

He put a comforting hand on his shoulder and drew small circles with his thumb, hoping it would console him just a little bit. Eiji didn’t seem to notice. His eyes burned holes in the blanket, seemingly immune to everything else around him. His hands clutched the sheets, nails diggings into the palms of his hands. His voice faltered as he spoke, still unaware of his surroundings.

“Ash… why… I waited… I waited…”

Altan’s heart sunk into his chest. Ash again. Eiji had spent hours that night talking about his old friend. His death had been untimely, the type that planted seeds of grief in all that were involved in the tragic story involving banana fish. He didn’t realize how deep the roots had ingrained themselves into Eiji’s heart. At that moment, he realized how much this grief had grown and how its branches had infiltrated every part of Eiji’s life.

He was starting to piece together the broken fragments that made Eiji Okumura who he was today.

“So this is why you’re always so tired,” Altan crooned.

Eiji still didn’t respond. He must have still been dreaming. Maybe it was better that way. Perhaps Altan could reach him then.

He placed one hand on Eiji’s cheek and wiped away the path of tears. Eiji kept babbling, and Altan did his best to shush him.

“Shhh… it’s okay… he loved you very much. I’m sure of it. That will never change.”

Eiji stared at him blankly as he finally went silent. (Could he hear him? Altan couldn’t tell.) He seemed to have stopped crying now, at least. Altan let out a relieved sigh.

“There, now. You’re supposed to be the older one. Can’t have you falling apart-“

He didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence before Eiji’s head dropped into his lap. He froze, unsure of where to put his hands or what to do in general. The idea of his idol being so vulnerable and intimate with him gave him a odd coagulation of emotions that even a young man with an IQ of 180 couldn’t analyze.

He waited for something else to happen.

“Please… don’t leave me again.”

Eiji’s whispers were so faint he almost missed them.

“I don’t want to be alone anymore.”

Altan paused.

Then, he put his hands on his head, tenderly running his fingers through his dark hair.

“I’ll stay with you, Eiji. I’ll stay by your side as long as I can this time. I promise.”

The words dripped from his lips like sweet nectar and fell upon Eiji's ears like pollen on budding spring flowers. He wasn’t sure what he meant, or why he made such a promise, but to Altan it felt like he was tying loose ends that had come undone a long time ago. Regardless, they seemed to bring Eiji some peace. Altan twirled his black locks in his fingertips and gently massaged his scalp, watching the man carefully as his heavy sobs soon gave way to calm breaths.

Perhaps it was a bit inappropriate for an intern to embrace his superior in this way, but he refused to worry any more about it. Besides, it felt… right. Like this was where he was meant to be all along.

 

~

 

Neither one of them mentioned the incident in the morning.

Eiji was up first. When he discovered his limbs tangled around Altan’s waist and his head nesting comfortably in his lap, he had the urge to scream. However, once he saw the peaceful face of the sleeping blonde, with his marigold eyelashes dusting over his cheeks, he immediately clamped his mouth shut.

With no recollection of his dream, or the effects it had on his behavior, he was horrified by the idea that his subconscious needs had finally manifested into action.

 _What would Sing think of me if he saw us in this position?!_ He panicked inwardly.  He was a grown man old enough to be Altan’s father; to be this physically close suggested something dubious. Sure, he was of age, but they had a working relationship. There was an obvious power imbalance that Eiji had no desire to take advantage of.

Yet, no matter how much he tried to convince himself that their relationship was strictly professional, he knew deep down that there was something at works pulling the two together. Being with him reminded him more and more of how things used to be when Ash was alive. He couldn’t deny their resemblance; not only their physical form, but their auras were almost identical. Eiji knew. He could feel it.

However, looking down at Altan’s youth as he lay asleep in his bed only seemed to emphasize the years between them. Altan with his baby soft skin, Eiji with his budding crow’s feet. Altan, full of potential and talent; Eiji, full of regret and guilt.

It would never work out.

He tried not to fester on his thoughts for too long. His heart was no stranger to longing and pain, but that didn’t mean those feelings were welcome.

He carefully unraveled himself from Altan’s hold, limb by limb so as not to wake him, and headed towards the kitchen. 

 

~

 

The smell was enough to stir Altan awake. The aroma of sweaty feet wafted throughout the apartment. Or perhaps it was a dead rat. Either way, it was disgusting. He shot out of bed, covering his nose in attempt to spare himself from the horrid stench.

“Hey, something stinks!” He called out as soon as he reached the kitchen. The smell was even stronger there and pinching his nose did nothing to protect him from the wall of stink that hit his face. It took everything in him not to vomit there and then.

“Oh, you’re awake!” called Eiji as he turned around. He donned a light pink apron and held a bowl full of vegetables and some other unrecognizable ingredients. “Breakfast is almost ready.”

“Breakfast…?”

It was at that moment that Altan realized that what he smelled was supposed to be food. Not wanting to be rude, he took a seat at the kitchen table and deliberately breathed through his mouth. Eiji didn’t seem to notice his obvious discomfort.

Altan watched him as he worked. Eiji hummed to himself, a tune Altan didn't recognize. A totally different person than the one he had seen fall to pieces in his sleep. 

Was he just pretending, putting on a false image of stability to hide his suffering? Altan needed to know. A par of him didn't want to ask, practicing screaming at him not to, but it didn't stop him from trying.

"Hey, uh, Eiji... do you remember-"

Before he could finish, there was a knock at the door.

“Huh? Who could that possibly be? It’s not even 10 yet.”

Altan jumped up, grateful for an excuse to leave the kitchen. It looked like that conversation would have to wait.

“Oh, it’s probably Sheng. He said he was coming by in the morning, remember? I’ll get the door!”

Without bothering to listen for a reply, he dashed out of the room and made it to the front door in five seconds flat. He opened it and wasn’t surprised to see a tuft of neon green hair and a pair of designer sunglasses standing before him.

“Yooooo, morning Al- OOOOWEEEE! What is that awful smell?”

Altan wrung an arm around his neck, effectively shushing Sheng. He spoke in a quiet voice so as not to insult their host.

“Shut your fat mouth. He’s cooking for us.”

“Ugh… you mean we gotta eat that?”

“If you can eat chicken feet, then you can eat this.”

“Don’t come at my chicken feet… it’s good bar food… and at least they don’t stink like shit.”

Their banter went on for a few more seconds before Eiji called for them from the kitchen.

“Sheng! Good morning! Have a seat, I made a lot of servings, so it should be enough for us three.”

Eiji looked at him so warmly that he had no choice but to smile back. But as soon as his back was turned, his hands immediately went to cover his nose. Altan elbowed him in annoyance.

Finally, the older man brought the smelly concoction to the table, along with a generous heaping of freshly cooked white rice. He proceeded to fill one of the empty bowls on the table, first with rice and then with the foul-smelling food that appeared to be a cluster of beans.

The two friends looked at the dish in front of them, then at Eiji. Sheng was the one to break the silence.

“Um… what is this, and is it supposed to smell?”

Eiji nodded, a bit too excitedly.

“It’s natto. Fermented soybeans. That’s how they are.”

Altan picked up the chopsticks next to his plate and poked at the strange brown substance curiously.

“Okay, so… how are you supposed to eat it?”

“Here, I’ll show you.”

Eiji grabbed some of the condiments on the table and squeezed them into his bowl. He stirred until it all mixed together to create a strange colored sauce.

“Add the soy sauce, mustard and green onions. Then mix ‘till it’s all salty.”

“Like this?”

Altan and Sheng followed suit, apprehensively.

“Yep! Then… pour it over the rice and dig in!!”

They obeyed and found themselves staring at an even less appetizing meal than they had seen just moments ago. Neither one dared to try it. Instead, they watched intently as Eiji shoved heaping amounts of the dish into his mouth, melting in ecstasy. His enthusiasm was on par with a young child’s.

“Yummy! It’s been so long since I’ve had proper natto!”

His curiosity got the better of him. Altan took his first bite, swallowed…

… and immediately regretted it.

“I’m gonna be sick…”

He’d made it farther than Sheng. He had spit it out into a napkin before it could reach his throat.

“Yo, I’m so sorry Mr. Eiji. But I can’t eat this. It stinks.”

“Hm? It’s supposed to. It’s fermented.”

Altan frowned, crinkling his nose in disgust.

“Do Japanese people only eat stinky food?”

By the time he realized what he’d said, it was too late. The words had slipped out of his mouth mindlessly and there was no taking them back. His eyes shot up to face Eiji, who stared back at him with a bizarre expression.

Sheng pounded him over the head.

“Who’s the fat mouth now, jackass?!”

“Ah, that was rude of me, I-”

Then, something unexpected happened.

Eiji giggled.

Quietly at first, increasing in volume as the low rumbles in his stomach made way to full blown belly laughs. His musical laughter rang out and echoed against the bare walls of the apartment. Pure, unrestrained joy. A beautiful sound that hadn’t graced the ears of anyone for a very long time.

He laughed so hard that tears ran down his cheeks. They were different from the ones Altan had seen the night before. These were free and full of light. As if Eiji had forgotten his pain, just for moment.

“Ahahahaha! Hahaha… I’m sorry… heh… it’s just… you sounded just like him!”

 Altan wasn’t sure whether to laugh with him or keep a neutral face. Sheng glanced back and forth between the two, lost in confusion.

“Uh… sounded like who?”

Eiji wiped his eyes, his residual giggles starting to fade. He didn’t stop smiling.

“Ash… he said the same thing the first time he ever tried natto.”

Eiji turned to Sheng, his big toothy grin still spread wide.

“And Sheng… you are the spitting image of Shorter. It’s like they’ve both come back to me.”

Altan, again at a loss, could do nothing but chuckle along with him.

“What a compliment, being compared to the famous Ash Lynx. I’m touched.”

Sheng grew more impatient watching the two of them chortling together, feeling a bit left out.

“I don’t really get this inside joke of yours, so mind filling me in?”

Eiji nodded. He was ready.

“Of course. I’ll never forget Shorter Wong and what he did for me.”

For the second time in two days, Eiji spilled his memories out like water from a basin. For some reason, it was easier this time. Perhaps the lock had finally been broken, releasing the prisoners of memory from his heart. He felt both Ash and Shorter with him, their presence filling the room as if they had never left. Altan and Sheng listened carefully, interjecting every now and then with questions or comments.

“This Shorter guy sounds pretty cool… you said he had a mohawk too?!”

“Yes, but his was purple.”

“Huh. I thought about going purple at first, actually.”

Sheng ran a hand through his thick hair. He blurted out his next question senselessly.

“So… what happened to him?”

Eiji’s eyes lowered, and the same anguish Altan had come to recognize returned to his gaze. The blonde wanted to smack Sheng; his lack of tact was not helpful in these kinds of moments.

“He died. Protecting me.”

The room went silent for a few seconds, despair lofting in the air like the scent of rotten natto.

“If it wasn’t for him,” Eiji continued, picking at the remaining grains of rice with his chopsticks. “I would’ve been made to be a sex slave. He sacrificed himself so that I would never have to suffer the same way Ash did.”

Sheng brought his hand to his chin and sat back in his chair, deep in thought. Several seconds passed before he spoke again.

“Well, Mr. Eiji, you shouldn’t beat yourself up feeling guilty about it anymore. I think if Shorter were here, he’d tell you the same thing. It’s not your fault that happened. And he wouldn’t have done it if he didn’t really care about you. In fact, if he was half the man you say he was, he’d do it all again in a heartbeat.”

Hearing those words made Eiji’s eyes water and a bittersweet feeling run through him. He hadn’t realized it, but they had bandaged a wound on his heart that had been bleeding for almost two decades. He had felt numb for so long, never having the chance to properly grieve for the friend who had singlehandedly saved him from a living hell. He had pushed him out of his mind while simultaneously punishing himself for being too weak to pay his respects. For years he hadn’t been able to think of Shorter without being crushed by debilitating guilt. At least not until now.

“Short… I mean, Sheng… thank you.”

Suddenly, Sheng’s eyebrows furrowed. He coiled back slightly as if hit by an invisible force.

“Weird… I just got major déjà vu.”

Altan, who had remained silent for this part of the conversation, nodded in agreement.

“I’m feeling a little nostalgic myself. Although I’m not sure why.”

Eiji said nothing. He only smiled, wiping the tears from his eyes before they could fall.

He hoped this happiness would stay with him for a long time.


	6. Chapter 6

Despite Eiji’s protests, he found himself boarding the subway towards Chinatown shortly after his failed attempt at breakfast.

After an extremely brief discussion, the two younger men decided that they were going to satisfy their hunger by getting an early lunch at one of Sheng’s favorite spots. Eiji had been dragged along reluctantly for reasons he still didn’t quite understand. His dish had turned out perfectly and there was no reason to spend money when they had food ready at his place, but the two Americans thought otherwise. His bitterness fermented like soybeans for natto.

“Americans are such picky eaters,” he grumbled as he zipped up his jacket.

Altan laughed while he ruffled Eiji’s hair, which caused him to puff out his cheeks in annoyance.

“Such a baby,” he teased as the older man pouted. “You’re pushing 40 and yet here you are whining like a little kid.”

How unnerving it was to be treated in such a way! Eiji barely said a word the entire way, his cheeks emblazoned with mortification.

Fortunately, the journey itself was mostly uneventful. Altan made sure to stay by his side this time. For the entire ride, he protectively hung one arm around Eiji’s neck. He was so close, Eiji could smell the oaky cologne on his shirt. His juniper eyes darted around the cart suspiciously as if he expected another deviant to attack like before. Shorter stood close by as well; Eiji could see a switchblade twirling about in his hand. The older man found it a tad embarrassing to be babied like this, but not enough to say anything about it.

In fact, it was reassuring to know he was being protected so vigilantly. Almost as if he had two new guardian angels.

They got off at the Chinatown station. It occurred to Eiji that he hadn’t bothered to ask where it was that they were going. Of course, it was enough to assume that this was their destination. It _was_ Sheng’s neighborhood, after all.

But he had no way of preparing himself for the things to come that afternoon.

They meandered down the streets that Eiji had explored on his own almost two decades ago, when he was just a newcomer to the city. He cringed when he thought of how ridiculous he must have looked with those 70s glasses and bomber jacket. Surprisingly, being there didn’t hurt as much as he thought it would. Walking down memory lane was beginning to feel more pleasant. Maybe because he wasn’t walking alone.

After a few minutes, they reached their journey's end. Eiji’s breath froze in his chest as ice shot through his veins.

_So, this was the place…_

He tensed at the sight, his legs prepared to twist and run the opposite direction in which they had come. But his heart was heavy, and his grief had already made it halfway out. It was time to go all the way.

_Breathe, Eiji. It’s going to be okay._

He took a deep breath, and let it out. The air melted, and his breathing steadied.

Red symbols glowed faintly over the doors, followed by the words “Chinese restaurant”. Eiji could smell the stir fry from outside.

God, how long had it been? And yet it seemed as if nothing had changed.

He wondered if _she_ was still there… and if she would forgive him for not coming sooner.

His questions were answered as soon as Sheng pulled the double doors open and greeted the hostess in his usual boisterous manner.

“Yooooo, big sis! What’s poppin’!”

There she was. Nadia Wong stood perfectly still, her expression cool and unchanging. The years had aged her slightly; Eiji could make out a few white strands of hair peppered through her boyish haircut. Few wrinkles could be found on her smooth skin, although he noticed some tiny sun spots dotted over her cheeks and forehead. But she remained as beautiful as ever, despite the melancholy that lay dormant in her eyes.

Altan bent down in to give her a kiss on the cheek, but her eyes didn’t move from Eiji. She spoke in a frosty voice, calm and collected.

“Eiji. Long time no see.”

He stared at her, his words lost before they could reach his lips.

Then, he bowed down and pressed his lips against her other cheek, kissing her with utmost tenderness.

She closed her eyes and didn’t pull away.

“Nadia,” He whispered as his lips left her skin. “You look well. Sorry for not coming to see you sooner. How’s Charlie?”

She warmed up when he mentioned her husband. A small smile with a hint of light crept across her face like a slow sunrise.

“He’s fine. He cut back his hours, so we’re spending more time together.”

She looked him up and down, silently judging in her own way.

 “You seem to be holding up much better. I see you’ve made friends with these two yahoos.”

Sheng glanced back and forth between them, his sunglasses falling down the bridge of his nose. Altan had a puzzled expression on his face, looking equally confused.

“Uh… you two know each other?” the blonde finally asked.

She pursed her lips and nodded. Her cold expression returned, locking away the last piece of sun she had in a frozen prison.

“We were old acquaintances. Years ago.”

Without another word on the matter, she gestured towards the room full of empty tables. “Sit wherever you like. We’re not too busy right now. I’ll bring you some soup, on the house.”

As she walked away and the three of them took their seats at a booth near the window, Altan and Sheng looked at Eiji expectantly.

“How do you know Nadia?” the green-haired boy inquired.

“We go way back,” Eiji spoke off-handedly. Seeing the baffled look in Sheng’s eyes told him that he wasn’t aware of her relationship to either Ash or Shorter. Or even the fact that they had been related. Although it made him a bit sad, he understood why Nadia wouldn’t want to talk about it.

“She was… another good friend.”

He didn’t want to say too much. That was Nadia’s secret to share. He owed her that much for his years of neglect.

“How do you know her, Sheng?”

The Chinese boy leaned back in his spot in the booth and fidgeted a little. He looked away and rubbed his upper lip with two calloused fingers.

“She took me in when my parents kicked me out a few years ago. I still don’t really understand why. I was a piece of shit back then.”

Eiji watched him carefully. He seemed a little anxious; one of his legs shook up and down as if he were ready to bolt at any minute. It was odd. Altan seemed to notice as well. He looked concerned, but didn’t utter a word.

“What do you mean?”

Sheng fell silent, and Eiji immediately regretted his question. Perhaps he shouldn’t have asked…

“Ah, I was a gangbanger,” he finally piped up after a while, his leg settling. “Got mixed up with some bad people. In fact, I’d probably be dead now if it wasn’t for her.”

A big, cheesy grin spread across his face. Eiji could see his eyes lighting up behind the dark shades.

“She kicked my ass. Told me to get my act together or she’d kill me herself. She doesn’t look like it, but she can pack a real punch. I’ve got the bruises to prove it.”

Eiji decided to probe him further.

“Did she… ever talk about her family?”

“Nah. And I didn’t ask. Out of respect, ya know. She always got so sad whenever her family was brought up.”

Eiji rubbed the stubble on his chin. He watched Nadia across the room. She leaned over the counter, scribbling something rapidly. It seemed foolish now, but he realized how much he had in common with her. Why hadn’t he reached out more often? They had both been suffering alone, perhaps it would have been easier if he had made more of an effort…

As he was lost in thought, her gaze suddenly lifted.

Their eyes met, and a moment of mutual understanding passed between them.

It lasted only a few seconds. She soon disappeared behind a dark curtain without looking back.

_Forgive me, Nadia_ , Eiji thought. _I promise I’ll make it up to you._

“I think you should sometime, Sheng. You’d be surprised how much it might help her.”

“Mmmm… I dunno…”

From the corner of his eyes, Eiji saw the woman approaching with a tray full of soup, water, and appetizers. She carefully placed each item on the table, along with a set of dinnerware wrapped in thin white napkins.

“Eat up. There’s plenty more where that came from, so don’t be afraid to ask for seconds.”

Before she got too far, Eiji took her hand and guided her back. She seemed a bit surprised by the sudden physical contact, but she didn’t object.

“Nadia… will you sit with us for a while?”

She stared at him for a moment, then shook her head. Her short black hair swayed subtly across her forehead.

“I can’t. I’m working.”

Eiji’s eyes didn’t leave hers.

“You sure you can’t take a short rest? You did say it’s not too busy right now.”

She seemed as if she was about to reject his request, but the urgency in his eyes managed to convince her to stay.

“Alright. Just a few minutes.”

She pulled up a chair and took a seat in between Eiji and Sheng. Altan slurped his soup while the three of them made small talk. After a while, Eiji nudged Sheng and pushed him to ask the question that had been hanging on his mind.

“So, sis… Eiji says he knew your brother. Could you tell me about him?”

Her eyes narrowed as she threw daggers in Eiji’s direction. She addressed Sheng, but didn’t look away from Eiji.

“That’s a very specific question. What makes you bring this up all of a sudden?”

His gaze didn’t falter; he could see how desperately her grief was fighting to escape.

_I know it hurts, Nadia… but it’ll hurt more if you keep it locked away!_

“I know how hard it is,” Eiji began softly. “It took me a very long time to get to this point. But it’s better to talk about it than to suffer alone.”

She cringed at his words, yet refused to give in. Eiji moved his hand on top of hers and caressed it gently.

“Sheng reminds you a lot of Shorter, don’t you think?”

The booth fell silent. An uncomfortable tension floated in the air. Even Altan stopped eating to observe the scene before him.

Then, slowly, ice turned to water and Nadia’s daggers softened into wet tears. They leaked from her eyelids and fell into the glass of water she clutched in her thin fingers.

Sheng took her other hand.

“Sis…”

Quietly, she pulled away from Eiji and reached into her shirt pocket, pulling out a piece of paper folded neatly into quarters. She unraveled it, revealing an old Polaroid from god knows how long ago. The three men at the table leaned over to see. There, a younger Nadia stood in between two boys, holding a pair of designer sunglasses as she smiled joyfully. Her face beamed like midday rays from the summer sky, as warm and inviting as a light breeze on a hot day. The man on the right seemed to be laughing, the corners of his mouth raised in a sheepish smile. His bright purple hair leapt from the paper.

“It’s been 19 years,” she began, her lower lip quivering. “Not a day has gone by that I don’t think about him.”

Sheng removed his own sunglasses and stared at the picture. His eyebrows crumpled until they almost touched.

“So… this is Shorter Wong. He was your brother.”

She nodded, words failing. Eiji put a comforting hand on her back and rubbed up and down as more tears fell from her eyes. They sat there for a while, giving her the time she needed to mourn. Time she had starved herself of.

“I see so much of him in you, Sheng. When we met, I thought he had come back. I saw a scrawny kid who got wrapped up in pointless violence and could only think of my brother.”

She traced Shorter’s face with one finger, grimacing as she continued.

“I asked myself, ‘what would I have done differently? How could I have saved him?’ Maybe if I had been more involved. Or maybe if I had stepped in sooner. Those maybes… they’ve killed me little by little each day.”

Sheng squeezed her hand a little tighter, and she reciprocated. She looked at him; the melancholy had awakened and erupted from her eyes.

“I’m sorry. I helped you for selfish reasons. I know I was strict with you… but it’s because I wanted to protect you from the same fate.”

“No…" Sheng interjected. “You saved my life. I could never repay you for what you’ve done. You’re the closest to a real sister I’ll ever get.”

She grabbed a napkin and wiped her eyes, breaking away from his touch momentarily. A small trace of a smile on her face.

“Thank you… all of you... for letting a sad old woman like me lay her regrets to rest."

Eiji and Sheng wrapped themselves around Nadia, comforting her as she let herself grieve. Ash scooted over as much as he could to join them. The three of them held her, hand in hand, arms coiled around as she wept soundlessly in the privacy of the empty restaurant.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all, I apologize for the delay! I had this WIP for over a month and really struggled writing the ending. I worried a bit about making the right impact, so please forgive me if it's not perfect. Thank you for your patience, thank you for sticking with this story, and please enjoy! May my humble little fix-it fic mend the shattered pieces of your heart and give you the satisfaction you've been looking for.

Time slipped by in that little restaurant like sand through fingertips, and the four of them found themselves lost in conversation. They talked, and talked, and talked some more, way past lunchtime and into the late afternoon when the sun began its slow descent into the horizon. When Nadia laughed, they laughed with her, and when the tears returned they brushed them off her sun-stained cheeks and reminded her that she wasn’t alone.

No one else came in that afternoon. It wasn’t until the trio went to leave that Nadia realized the ‘open’ sign on the front door had been turned around at some point without her noticing. They all had a good laugh about it; when the discovery was made Eiji could have sworn he saw a twinkle in Altan’s eye.  She bid them farewell, and Eiji promised to return soon.

They headed back to the subway station. Their journey was delayed, however, when Altan received a call and snuck away to answer it privately.

“That’s not suspicious at all,” Eiji commented off-handedly to Sheng, more curious than annoyed. The other boy just shrugged. “Why couldn’t he answer that in front of us?”

“Maybe it’s his girlfriend. Who knows. He’s always been a secretive person.”

The photographer felt a sudden heaviness pressing deep into his chest. He forgot that there were still many things he didn’t yet know about his apprentice. And there was very little time left to learn.

“Right… his girlfriend…”

His voice trailed off as he watched Altan from a distance with a twisted feeling in the pit of his stomach.

 

~

 

“Yo, Mr. Sing.”

“Altan. How are things?”

“Pretty good. He seems to be in better spirits.”

“Good to hear. I wanted to let you know that I got the tickets. Three one ways. I’ve already put in the paperwork for your visas. They should be ready by the time you leave.”

“Which is when, exactly?”

“Next week. You should let your parents know you won’t be back in Minnesota for a while.”

“I’ll give em a call later. I doubt they’ll mind.”

A soft chuckle could be heard on the other line.

“Oh, uh, Mr. Sing…?”

“Yeah?”

“…Thank you. For everything. I don’t know how to repay you… but I could give you some of what I have now and then pay you back in installments after I get a job-”

“Nonsense. Don’t worry about the money. It’s nothing.”

“… Are you sure?”

“Consider it a gift. A ‘thank you’ for what you’ve done for Eiji. And an apology… from an old comrade. It’s the least I can do.”

 “Um… alright…”

“I know it doesn’t make much sense right now, but it will soon. I promise.”

“Sure thing, old man. Anyway, I’ll catch ya later.”

“Yup. By the way, make sure you tell Eiji sooner rather than later. He’s a slow packer. And one last thing, quit calling me old man. I’m not that old yet.”

“Roger that, grandpa.”

 _Click_.

 

~

 

Altan rejoined them after a few minutes, shoving the phone deep in his pocket as if burying a secret. The back of his hand brushed his nose as he marched forward, avoiding Eiji’s eyes.

“Sorry about that. Let’s go.”

“Who was it?” Eiji asked as innocently as he could, trying not to sound too jealous.

“Ah, just my mom. Asking about flight details for next week.”

Those words were like a punch to his already twisted gut. Eiji felt like he was slipping off cloud nine and about to hit the ground. Hard.

His time with Altan and Sheng was almost up. The weeks had flown by so fast, a whirlwind of emotions and memories that had turned Eiji’s small world upside down. It was strange thinking about how much had transpired in such a short amount of time. He had known all along that things wouldn’t stay this way forever, but he had been enjoying the company of them so much he forgot to remember it would eventually come to an end.

That sinking, dreadful feeling didn’t go away. It latched onto him and dragged him down, down, down, and by the time they reached his apartment his shoulders were slumped and his energy depleted.

No… he didn’t want it to be over. Not yet. The idea of returning to solitude after tasting the sweetness of companionship was more than he could bear. What goal did it serve to touch happiness if he was fated to have it ripped from his hands?

In a way, it felt like losing Ash all over again.

He barely said a word to either Altan or Sheng before going inside, who looked on in concern as he soundlessly searched his pockets for the house keys. He wandered aimlessly in the confines of his own mind, ignorant to the world around him and lost to the seeds of despair that had taken root in the garden of his psyche.

He closed the door behind him without bothering to say goodbye. Once inside, he collapsed on the couch and let his eyelids shut, succumbing to the darkness.

 

~

 

He awoke in a space that felt both familiar yet foreign.

There was nothing around him, as far as he could perceive. No scene, no setting, no sound. Just a vast emptiness that mimicked the feeling of floating. He couldn’t sense his body; he was as light as air and free as the sky.

He didn’t panic. There was no danger here; none that he could sense.

Time passed by comfortably; that is, if time existed in such a place. And soon he heard a voice.

“Hey, dummy. We got somewhere to be. Stop wasting time.”

He knew that voice.

“… Sheng?”

He couldn’t see him, but he felt him. His aura. Vibrating at a frequency only perceived by the mind.

“Come on. Someone is waiting for us.”

“Who’s waiting?”

“Do I really have to say?”

He fell silent.

“Where are we again?”

“Follow me and maybe you’ll find out.”

So he did. How they went, and where, remained a mystery.

He knew they had reached their destination when he felt warmth surrounding him. An ethereal voice spoke to him, both feminine and masculine in nature.

“Welcome back. Have you enjoyed your journey this time around, Aslan Jade Callenreese?”

Wait… was that… his name?

“My name is Altan, not…” he began hesitantly, his voice dropping off before it reached the end of the sentence. Was that it? Something was bizarre about that. Something was missing. His mind buzzed as he searched for the elusive answers.

“Wait a second…”

“Are you sure about that?” Sheng’s voice piped up, clear as day.

Was he sure…?

Was there something he had forgotten all along?

A purpose… an objective… a reason…

That’s right… that’s right! His name was Aslan Jade Callenreese. Ash Lynx to most. The wildcat of New York City. The leader of a gang syndicate in the streets of the Big Apple. Was that who he had truly been, all along? Had he really forgotten?

Gradually, a flood of distant memories washed over him in small waves, drowning him in an ocean of images, emotions, words, and senses. A movie played before him, a story that had been lost along the way. A story of pain, suffering, deep trauma, one that ended with a gentle healing that was only possible through pure, unconditional love. The finale arrived; he watched himself drape across a bloodied paper as he fell into a deep sleep in the public library, the picture of a dark-haired boy vivid in his mind during the final moments.

He was Aslan Jade Callenreese.

He had been given a second chance.

A chance to return to the one he loved the most, Eiji Okumura.

A chance to make it right.

“I’m… I’m… I’m Ash! _I’m Ash_!!!”

The ethereal voice let out a hearty laugh, a sound similar to the taste of honey. It boomed across the soundless space and wrapped them in a divine embrace.

“Aslan Jade Callenreese. Shorter Wong. You’ve spent 18 years refining your souls in this life. It is time that your memories returned.”

That name… Shorter Wong… he knew that name, too!

“Shorter? _Shorter_?!”

Sheng, no, Shorter, radiated beside him. He snickered like he was in on a secret Ash didn’t know about.

“Took you long enough to come to your senses, dude. I was gettin’ tired of pretending not to remember our past lives.”

“But… how? And why?”

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it. It won’t make sense right now, but it will.”

Another wave of déjà vu. Hadn’t he heard that somewhere else recently…?

The voice spoke again.

“It’ll take a while to adjust to adjust to your two sets of memories. You won’t remember everything right away, but it’ll come back in pieces.”

Ash said nothing as he soaked it all in and continued to listen.

“Now that you’ve put together your past, it’s time for you two to move forward and take hold of your future. Where you’re going is most important, don’t you think?”

The two reincarnated men silently agreed.

“Very well. With that, I bid you farewell. You won’t return here again until many years have passed, and next time Eiji will be with you. Enjoy the next seven decades of your lives. Cherish each moment, no matter how dull or mundane. And understand that you will never, ever be alone again.”

As the last words floated through the air, the world went dark as they woke up on the other side without any doubt in their mind of their identities.

 

~

 

Eiji woke up hours before his alarm clock was set to go off on that awful, dreaded day.

He laid there for what seemed like eons, watching the second hand of his clock tick by slowly hoping at some point it would break. As if that would freeze time.

Days had passed since he’d spoken to or seen Altan or Sheng. He no longer had the willpower to answer his phone or leave his apartment. He only got out of bed to make food or use the bathroom, moments few and far between his bouts of unbearable depression. He knew he should have at least reached out to say goodbye, but he was so afraid of falling apart at the seams he didn't dare say a word.

He would have done anything at that point to delay the inevitable. But alas, he knew it wasn’t possible. This was the day they would leave him, and he’d be alone again to wallow in his chamber of solitude.

A ray of sunshine broke through the cloud of sorrow that hovered over him, coming in the form of an energetic knock at his front door. He jolted in his place in bed feeling startled by the sudden noise.

Could it be…?

With a sudden burst of energy, his feet swung from the bed and hit the carpet somewhat clumsily. He got a bit dizzy standing up too fast but began slowly shuffled his way to the entrance, dragging his feet the whole way.

It was as if his soul left his body when he opened the door.

“So,” Altan began with a smirk. “The hikkikomori finally comes out of his cave.”

Eiji stood there perplexed, his eyes fixated on the blonde man in front of him. Sheng stood at the bottom of the steps wearing a hint of a cocky smile on his face as light reflected off his dark glasses.

“Altan… Sheng… what are you doing here? Don’t you have a flight to catch soon?”

“Eiji... I’m heartbroken,” Altan spoke to him in a teasing tone of voice. “Don’t tell me you’ve chosen another lover?”

Eiji’s eyebrows furrowed, a little taken aback by the suggestive comment. That was strange coming from him. Why would he say such a thing?

“What are you talking about? You’re not making any sense.”

“Don’t you recognize me? Or did you forget, too?”

Altan leaned over Eiji, pressing him against the wall and so close to his face Eiji could feel his warm breath on his skin. Goosebumps sprouted across his arms and shoulders. He froze momentarily, unable to speak or breathe. Was this really happening?

“Al… tan?”

“That’s not my real name… you know who I am, don’t you?”

 _Ba-dump_.

Eiji’s heart pounded in his throat as he stood there speechless, unable to say a word.

He heard nothing but the blood rushing through his head.

All that was real to him in that moment was the man before him. The cornflower hair that fell over his faded green irises. The alabaster skin slightly flushed with rosy-pink from the heat of the day. The soft, yet hardened skin beneath his fingertips.

He couldn’t believe it. He refused to believe it. He had to believe it.

It was really him. It had been him all this time. He was a fool for living in denial all this time.

There he was… standing before him in the flesh. The man he had spent nearly two decades grieving.

He was alive and he was right there in front of him.

“Ash… ASH!! ASH!!!!!”

His body moved before his mind could process it. He threw himself at the young man and snaked his arms around his waist, wrapped around them as tightly as he could. He lost his glasses in the process but didn’t concern himself with them. The only thing that mattered in this moment was him. He buried his face in his chest and sobbed without restraint, soaking his white shirt until it was nearly see-through.

“I missed you so much! I can’t believe it’s really you!”

Ash stood there quietly. He held Eiji and let him cry as he ran his lanky fingers through his silky raven hair.

“I missed you too. I’m so sorry it took me so long to get back to you.”

Several second passed. Eiji finally pulled away, but kept both hands on his sides as if letting them go meant he’d disappear again. Ash wiped away the remaining tears on his cheeks with the tenderest touch.

“I had suspicions the entire time, but I never believed in them. It’s not possible for the dead to come back to life.”

“But it is possible for souls to be reborn.”

Eiji snorted and choked a little as his nose searched for air through clogged nostrils. He wiped his nose with his shoulder and felt disgusted. He probably looked like a mess. Little did he know how beautiful he looked to Ash in that moment.

“Eiji…” Ash spoke softly. “Come with me.”

“Come with you? To Minnesota?”

The blonde shook his head.

“To Japan.”

He dug into his left pocket and held up three tickets, all one ways. Destination: Tokyo. Eiji’s jaw just about hit the ground.

“Wait… you’re going to Japan?!”

Ash grinned and nodded in Shorter’s direction.

“Not me. Us.”

Shorter piped up after his long silence.

“There’s three tickets, dummy. We’re all going together. And yes, we’ve got our visas already. All we have to do is get to the airport in time.”

Eiji stared in wonder at the black and white boarding passes before him. Analyzing the numbers and names typed on them. Barely registering his own name.

“Remember how much we practiced Japanese?” Ash asked as he smiled to himself. “My biggest regret was not going with you that day. I was so foolish to let myself die instead of being by your side. I promise, Eiji, if you accept me, I’ll never leave you again.”

Less than a second passed before Eiji gave him his answer.

“Of course I accept you! I’d accept you a hundred times no matter what happens! Ash, oh Ash, stay by my side forever!”

The waterworks began again, and once more Ash’s shirt became a puddle. The reborn lynx couldn’t help but poke fun at him.

“Such a baby. You’re supposed to be the older one.”

He thought he heard Eiji mumble a cheeky retort into his chest, but he decided to let it be.

Finally, the older man collected himself once he realized he had about three hours to get everything ready for his impromptu trip. He rushed back into his apartment without closing the door behind him, allowing Ash and Shorter to invite themselves in as they waited for him to pack. He failed to notice them giggling as he lost himself in a frantic frenzy. He spent countless minutes digging through his closet to find all the necessary items for his spontaneous international journey. He shoved everything and anything into one large bag, occasionally checking to see if the suitcase zipped and making sure it wasn’t overweight.

Eventually, with some prodding from Shorter, he was ready to leave.

They stepped out into the world and left Eiji’s somewhat disorganized apartment behind them. Eiji felt like he was experiencing life for the first time, taking his first steps into the universe with immeasurable opportunities unfolding before his eyes. He looked up and watched the morning sun shining behind Ash’s head, illuminating it like a golden crown and giving him the likeness of an angel. The reborn lynx held out a calloused hand to Eiji, urging him to take it. He did without a second thought. His fingers interlaced with his lost lover’s, holding them firmly but gently. Feeling complete. Feeling like the missing shards of his soul had been put together once more.

He never wanted to let that hand go again.

Eiji got lost in his forest-green eyes, noticing a few bright flickers of dark jade within them. They burned with the same wild intensity as they did 18 years ago when the two of them had first met. Eiji would have been happy staring at that face for the next 100 years.

Shorter smiled as he waited by the car, a goofy grin stretching from ear to ear as his hands ran through his chartreuse colored hair.

“Alright, you lovebirds, come on. Let’s go before we miss our flight. I’m gonna be upset if I miss my first trip out of the country.”

Eiji’s face felt hot. He picked up his suitcase and gingerly made his way down the steps, hoping neither of them noticed.

He thought about all the special moments waiting to be made. He pondered where to take Ash and Shorter first. Perhaps his hometown, where his parents lived quietly at the edge of the mountains surrounded by the clear blue lake. He had always wanted to introduce them. Or maybe they should spend a few days in Tokyo first; Eiji wondered which neighborhood Ash would like best, and if Shorter would enjoy the street fashion. He considered showing them to his favorite natto restaurant, but quickly brushed aside the thought. They’d probably enjoy ramen or bento more, anyway.

Millions of possibilities. Infinite potential.

Eiji squeezed Ash’s hand as they slid into the backseat.

The past was of no concern to him any longer.

Besides, it was where they were going that mattered the most.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Altan = A Turkish unisex name meaning "red dawn".
> 
> Sheng = taken from the Mandarin word "Xīnshēng", meaning rebirth. 生 (shēng) on its own can mean many things, including health, life, to be born and to grow.

**Author's Note:**

> First Banana Fish fic, written as my way to cope with the ending. Let's all suffer and heal together.


End file.
